Chapter 17

I don't know what to think about Alexi and his punishments anymore. Nothing has happened, and I am on edge every second waiting for it. After he came to my room he just left, silently, confidently, calmly and looking smug as fuck. Knowing how much he got to me and revelling another tool in his arsenal. Jealousy and heartache, he knows it too. I put my heart on my sleeve without meaning too and showed him another woman could burn me. Biggest idiot move, EVER. Long after Alexi walked out, Mico came up and told me to pack for the next morning. He said that we were going back to the city and back to the club. It was a weird moment and I swear it was almost like he was checking on me and evaluating the damage when he walked in. I wondered if he thought his cousin had roughed me up, and the look of relief was evident when he found me sane and sat on my bed contemplating some bitch named Joanne who thinks she can take over my place. Mico is the one throwing me my orders nowadays. It's like Alexi can't even bring himself to talk to me anymore and in a way, I feel relieved. He's avoiding me, giving me the silent treatment, and pretty much acting like I am invisible. It was the quietest plane trip and car journey back, but now we're at the club and morning is brimming with new light. I can see he never even slept here last night. The tell-tale signs and made bed before the cleaners have come up here say it all, and my stomach is aching with the possibility he probably slept in any number of the boudoirs on the second floor with his new squeeze. Part of me is confused why he hasn't paraded her in here and fucked her openly in his room while I am made to endure it. That's his style and I know he will have thought about using it. I guess he's biding his time for something more epic, seeing as I didn't just run from him, I also hit him too. Alexi is simmering, that clever brain of his is working out something appropriate for the crime, and not for the first time, I regret not following through with my running away plan when I had the chance. I admire myself in the mirror for one last time. I'm wearing a new dress that I bought in a boutique in the Hamptons, it's long past my knee and figure-hugging everywhere. Capped sleeves and modest neckline yet it's crazily sexy and makes me look killer. It is pale coloured, cream faux suede with serious body contouring going on, and I finish it with a narrow black belt at my waist to accentuate my curves, black patent stilettos to look classy and make my legs look divine. It makes my slim frame more elongated and I look taller than my normally crappy height of five feet six. My goal is to dress to impress, return to that persona I spent years perfecting and act like I no longer care or can be affected by him. I am the queen of hiding my feelings and acting like a cold bitch, and it's time I got back on track and did just that. He won't see me broken and wounded, he will see me manicured, sexy as hell and not giving a shit about him anymore. I always loved dressing up and looking elegant, never favoured the trashier styles and revealing clothes if I didn't have to. I prefer subtle hints of sexy that drive a man's mind wild, as it gives you more edge than putting all the goods out on show for everyone to sample. My hair's down and sleek as I had my colour retouched at my upper-class getaway, in a salon I used to use there, so it's on fire and looking radiantly gorgeous. Makeup flawless and I have painted my talons black to match my mood. I'm in no frame of mind to take Alexi on today, but I look like I am, and it might give me some of my self-confidence back that he is slowly chipping away every single day. I put on my favoured mask of brave, sassy and indifferent then head downstairs in search of breakfast and something to occupy my day. It's almost noon, my body clock still in time with the bar closing at four so this is my early morning. We keep food in the apartment. Alexi has gourmet meals stocked in there weekly, but I have no desire to wait around heating one up and the bar staff do a mean grilled cheese that I can't resist. I just need different scenery than the inside of that dark space and interact with some normal non-sadistic humans for a little while. It is times like this I see the drawback in never allowing myself to have friends or allies. Always alone, always having to occupy myself and left with my own inner thoughts, overthinking when I could be talking to another human or sharing my woes. It's the first time in my life I actually feel a little pang for just one real friend, someone else to lighten the burdens I carry. I wander down to the ground floor, bypassing the office where he will be if he is still here. I don't know what his business entails when he's not and I would rather never find out, to be honest. Seeing glimpses of some of the men he deals with and knowing he never has his phone away from him at all hours, day or night, has given me a rough idea that his empire and responsibilities are huge. He carries a lot while still maintaining a dominant stance and unbreakable demeanour to his enemies all around, while they play nice to his face. No wonder he is such a psycho. I wouldn't last five minutes doing what he does; it's why he's so good at manipulation and coercing people and situations. I can see why he is what he is, but it doesn't make me forgive him in any way or swallow it any better. He's cold because he is immune to suffering and death. He has probably killed his fair share of people in the last nineteen years since he first pulled that trigger, and I don't doubt with every single one he lost a little bit of his humanity. I could never do it, never pull a trigger and take a life no matter how much I hate some people. It's not in me and I don't think I could live with the images playing in my head after. He keeps people at a distance, except his blood of course, they are all close-knit and compact as one fluid unit. That much was obvious in the interaction with Mico and Arrick. The Carreros are a family who stay close, trust one another and have each other's back. He cares about them, they care about each other and if you are lucky enough to be one of his family, like Sophie, then he makes sure nothing ever happens to you. Alexi moves mountains for the people he loves, and despite his cold bastard nature, I think he does and is capable of love. He knows how to care and nurture he just chooses not to. Not when it comes to women he fucks anyway. That kind of love is something he is not open to at all. Alexi is a protector for the ones he allows himself to care for, and I am just an outsider looking in who never even scraped the surface of his armour. It's depressing knowing no matter what I try and tell myself, he doesn't care about me even a little bit. ''Good, you're up. Here.'' Alexi's voice from behind startles me and I jump as I turn to him and try to regain my composure fast, to not show he's rattled me. I wasn't expecting him to break the silent treatment so soon. He looks completely deadpan this morning, no hint of anything under the surface just cool, controlled and groomed to perfection in a light shirt and chinos. He holds out a clipboard to me and I take it gracefully, eyes scanning the first page which is a list of tonight's guests. Trying to ignore my physical reaction and keep myself together. Trying not to show him he makes me jumpy, nervy and just fall to bits when he gets too close. It's like his presence makes me forget everything else and we seem to just start from the here and now. It's creepy and uncanny, I am not sure I like the ability to sweep it all away and act like mature adults in the new light of day. Not after all he has done. I tip my chin down and scan the paperwork in a bid to drive my mind on something non-Alexi. ''Only fifteen?'' I query, confused by the drop in booked rooms tonight when the club has been packed full since opening. One thing which will always take precedence over my fragile emotions, over him—the running of MY club. It's my baby and I dislike it when someone else changes something to make it run differently to how I do it. I created this place, tweaked it and caressed it beautifully into the pristine power palace it is … no one gets to fuck with that. I missed this place like crazy when he sent me away and it's the one place I feel at home. ''It's intentional. I made Joanne keep the numbers low, so we can give certain guests more options and more attention.'' Joanne … I don't even want to open that little jar of poison just yet. I have yet to see the bitch he has put in my place in both this club and his bed. I try to focus on what I have in my hand, but my heart is hammering and twisting itself inside out in pain. Don't let him get to you Camilla, he knows exactly what he's doing. ''So which ones? So I can make sure their demands are met and their girls are extra attentive.'' I purr at him, my façade firmly in place, making sure I show no interest at his mention of her. Or the fact I am internally brewing a storm at how he has changed the rota and the plans without consulting me first. My club, my rota, my way of doing things!!! ''Number six on the list, Mercurio … He's important and demanding. Multiple girls, a constant flow of booze and product, and he likes to bring his closest to shadow him. His party is four men so that bumps up the numbers.'' I scan the list and see a Robert Mercurio tagged as CEO of some business name that rings a bell. I think it's something to do with shipping containers and I wonder if this is who helps him get his weapons around. ''Check. Multiple girls, food, booze, blow all night and extra special sucking up to him and his minions.'' I make a mental note to scan the member profiles and memorise his face for arrival, so I can greet him myself. The personal touch is always a good angle for ego brushing. ''Last two on the list, no girls and no blow … just booze and royalty treatment. Put them in the upstairs VIP lounge and close it off so no one can stray up there without an access card. They want privacy.'' Alexi is in all business approach and I can handle him when he's like this. Focused, emotionally stable and completely disinterested in me. ''Carreros?'' I catch the last two names and blink up at him in surprise. ''My father and uncle, they're coming by to see what I have built here. I trust their counsel and I respect their opinions; both still have a hand in our family's responsibilities, so I want them treated as such. They are meeting some business acquaintances that are booked in here, so mostly I want them left alone.'' I look back at the list, Giovanni and Dimitri and I nod, completely intrigued that I am about to meet two of his peers who are not only important to him but direct blood links. His father, the man who moulded him, and I have heard Giovanni mentioned by Mico before, the uncle who plays a silent role but is still very much embroiled. Interesting. ''But no girls?'' I repeat to be sure. ''No. No girls.'' ''Boys?'' I wink mischievously, despite my reservations around him and I smile naughtily, dropping it when I see the furious glare thrown my way. Alexi is okay with gay, but it seems not when daddy and uncle are the centre of the joke. I clear my throat and look away from the intensity of those greys trying to impale me and lose my inkling of jest. Reminding myself that an anally retentive psycho stands before me. ''No boys. No drugs. They don't partake, just treat them like they matter more than anyone else in here tonight, and you won't piss me off.'' ''I didn't think that was possible.'' I joke sarcastically, mouth over brain and then sigh at myself for this inability to just stop trying to get a rise out of him. I lose my bravado, face paling as I catch yet another unimpressed look thrown at me and go back to my list. So much for wearing my mask of sassy and indifference. Like all my best-laid plans … they go to shit when faced with him. ''Any kink requests that I need to cover?'' I go back to flicking the papers, diverting his rage and note it's mostly invoices for deliveries due today and some little hints on client requests … Caviar and oysters for room fifteen. For the love of God, sometimes this feels like a hotel and not a brothel of sorts. ''Taylor … room four. He's bringing some of his own whores tonight, so whatever he does to them in his own room, as long as they are not ours then do not intervene. Brief security; he wasn't impressed with our safe word policy and the limits on what he can do to the girls and this is the compromise.'' Alexi actually sounds annoyed at that, strangely. ''Why can't he just do that shit in his own club if he wants to torture women, instead of leaving his mess here for us to clean up?'' I bite, unusually piqued with sudden anger. It's not like me to give a shit where someone else is concerned as long as I get paid, yet it hits a nerve and Alexi sees it too. ''Watch it, London, soon you'll be burning your bra and making poster boards. You might have to rethink the company you keep and where you work.'' Sarcasm at its finest and I just exhale heavily at him. ''Anything else?'' I gloss over it, not willing to be picked apart or give him more fuel for the fire he started under me. I'm in no mood to fight with someone who doesn't let you win, EVER. ''Room seven. We ordered a specific brand of champagne for it, make sure it's the only room served with it and keep it topped up. Five grand a pop, so keep it exclusive and bill him on top of his member rates for what he consumes. He's also bringing a guest.'' ''Okay, so we have fifteen members and five male guests, twenty-five girls on the floor and however many four is bringing to play with himself. I'll call in a few reserves to bump up the number of women available and make sure every man has his choice of multiples. Servers will be picked accordingly for your family to make sure I send up the most efficient.'' I rattle it off like a checklist and Alexi looks pleased. ''For everything you are, London, I never regretted making you the hostess of my club. Efficient and beautiful, a perfect little package. You look nice today, just make sure you keep your distance and watch Santagato tonight. He's booked in too, let Joanne deal with him as she has the skill in which you lack.'' He raises that arrogant brow at me and I literally have to claw myself inside out to not react. So many veiled digs in such a short statement after softening me with a compliment. He never fucking changes. Fucking wanker! ''Am I going to meet my competition any time soon?'' I sound bitter, stupidly so, and I can't help the bite of tears that hit me. I swear this crying thing is getting ridiculous. ''Soon. I'm taking her with me for a lunch date, I need an escort.'' He seems to smile through his words as his eyes bore into me with intensity, picking me apart and looking for that reaction. It's like the deathly blow to my soul. I swallow hard, trying to curb the shooting pain of bitter jealousy, and he just looks satisfied at my subtle reaction, testing out his new weapon, I guess. Seeing if my reaction at the house was a one-off. ''Have fun.'' I practically choke the words out and turn on my heel to get the fuck away from him before I start bawling like a child. He knows how to wound me and I hate him for it. If ever I found moments of weakness concerning him, forgetting what a bastard he is for a stupid insane second, then I can be rest assured he will always find ways to keep reminding me. * * * I don't meet the imposter until the club is starting to fill up. Music filling every dark nook and men filing in with wandering hands and smarmy smiles. I'll give Carrero his due, his club is never empty and his client list grows still. Give a man his basic carnal needs and you own him. All these rich powerful suits and here they are, wagging their tails like puppy dogs because Alexi lets them unwind, let loose and practice their perversions with minimal restraint. The club has its skill where secrecy is concerned, and these men have faith in the Carrero ability to keep it under the cover of darkness and hidden from the outside world. He is the king of the party and not one guest since we opened has had a bad night or a bad trip on his grade ''A'' product he keeps dishing out. From what I hear his sales in his magical white powder has quadrupled as his members get a little bit adoring for it outside of their visits. Tall and narrow, nestled in a row of other run down and some derelict buildings, it's obvious he chose this with the idea of making it inconspicuous and easy to bypass. From the outside, he has made this building look closed off and unused. Blacked out and sealed with no signage or anything that would suggest its interior purpose and in a back alley with only two entrances, both heavily guarded, and you have no way of getting in without an access card or pin. It is soundproofed to the hilt, so you can be standing outside while the music blares and you will hear nothing. It's like an alternate secret universe nestled so innocently in the poorer streets of New York. He even runs a car service to pick up and deposit his patrons, so no vehicles sit outside bringing attention to the building. He really did plan this down to every little minute detail. Standing in the midst of the room as it starts to warm up, Alexi appears with a tall brunette in tow by the side door he tends to use so his car can be kept nearby. Only staff can use that door as it's accessed from almost behind the club, and a necessary fire exit should we need it. I try not to feel anything, pushing it all down as she wanders in, holding onto his arm like a fucking queen. I don't think he is a man who wants to share his crown and she should pipe down before he puts her in her place publicly. Tall, slender, I would put her at five feet Seven or thereabouts and dressed well. Long waving hair tucked over one shoulder, and I can almost immediately tell this one has been a career Tom. A girl who went into escorting for the money and the sex, like a hobbyist. She makes it her life's goal to excel at it; she's me but without the scars, which ultimately gives her an edge. She's probably always controlled who, when and where and likes to get adventurous. I have met many Toms like her over the years. The ones who enjoy it, live for it and love the money it makes them. Nearly all of them came from stable childhoods and made this a career decision to satisfy a craving for expensive things and nymphomaniac tendencies. It was a girl like this who taught me that embracing and enjoying sex takes away some of the power they have over you. Back when I tried to form a bond with anyone who could show me a little affection. Catania never wanted to be my friend, but she did feel sorry for me. I was thirteen, immersed in a seedy and dirty world of control and pain, and she tried to give me pointers to help myself rather than intervene and help me escape. It wasn't in her interest to get invested in some scrawny little kid crying out for someone to see her. She told me to learn from it, use it and embrace what it could do for me. Men can be controlled by their desires and an accomplished seducer can lift herself above the rest. She helped me realise that I could control how much it damaged me, and that gave me the strength to survive and turn it all around. She saved my sanity without even knowing she did. Looking at Joanne, I can see a born seductress who does just that, and she's almost draped over Alexi like she owns him. I hate her already. ''London … Joanne.'' Alexi comes level as I plaster on the smile I greet our patrons with. Fake, oozing charm and yet inwardly wanting to stab the little wench a dozen times in the face with my shoe. I hate that he used that fucking pet name to introduce me to his new skank. ''Pleasured.'' I smile smoothly as Alexi removes her from his side. She eyes me up and takes my outstretched hand to shake it loosely. Cold hands, a sign of fear, a weak handshake and I can tell she's just all act. Learning to read shit like this has always given me an edge. She is not all that the first impressions imply; there's an awful lot of fakery and play-acting on her part and I double take her with closer scrutiny. Up close she doesn't seem to have a whole lot of smarts going on, it's hard to explain but I can usually tell from a set of eyes at how bright someone is, and she has dumb bitch stamped all over her. Her designer dress that impressed at a distance is also fake. I know knockoffs when I see them and despite it being a good fake, it's nevertheless a copy. ''So, you're my back up.'' She smiles sarcastically, and I raise a brow and laugh at her with complete amusement. Alexi raises a brow at my reaction, watching with that quick eye and calculating mind. I think he expected me to break like a weeping heartbroken little girl as he is so used to seeing me that way lately and it only makes me more determined to be the girl he first met when he walked into this club months ago. ''I think you mean alternate, for nights I am too busy to take over and have better things to do.'' I lift my chin and make a point of bringing my height up, even if she stands over me on equally high shoes. Alexi seems to be silently observing with that damned smirk in place and just clicks his fingers at a passing server for a drink. Arsehole! Enjoying the show as his two cats fight over their territory. Well, I have claws, and I am not against pissing on another feline! ''Well, whatever. I am going to enjoy watching you work the floor tonight after having it all to myself for a week, taking notes on what not to do.'' The catty tone and narrowed eyes rile the bitch in me, and somehow, even with him watching on and finding this entertaining, I let my fire spike. If he brought her over here to push me and hurt me, he can go take a dive off a cliff. ''Bringing in a stand-in when we have a lover's tiff to run the club I helped build is not an achievement. You're a pawn in the great Alexi's mind games, and it's obvious by your level of insults that he will grind you to dust in a matter of days. Good luck sweetheart. You don't know what's coming at you, and if you're still standing here looking as good as this in six or seven months' time, then I might be impressed and consider you a worthy opponent. Right now, however, I see puppy chow sitting waiting while the wolf works up an appetite.'' I don't care what he thinks of my little statement, I'm not letting some arse-faced cow with too much lippy and squint eyeliner trod me underfoot. I may not have the skill to put him in his place, but street bitch is my forte. She looks warily at him for some sort of permission, maybe reassurance, and shows a little hint of weakness in her armour. She is watching to see if it pissed him off and how she should proceed. Another ''Yes sir'' woman, yet the difference is … I don't care if it pisses him off, and I don't need his permission to stand and fight my own battles. I never did. He is quick enough to point it out when I should shut up and as he's silently smirking, I guess he is finding me amusing with my strain of sass. She has no back up in Alexi, she has her own wit, sass and venom to take care of things, and it seems to be absent when faced with me. Alexi likes people to take care of their own shit and not rely on him for this kind of immature crap. She won't last ten minutes in his world. She blinks at me and lifts her chin without the presence of confidence to back it up and just makes a face that says ''whatever''. Completely at a loss with a response. ''I'm sorry. Did you think you were special and he doesn't fuck all of us? Clearly delusional. Alexi doesn't have favourites, he has toys and flavours of the week. His redhead is in the doghouse for being a naughty girl, and this is his attempt at disciplining her to behave. Have fun Dahlings, I have a club to run, so cheerio.'' I push past them without a glance, although I do trail a hand across his collar and over his chest as I go in a rather sensual way. To make it clear to her that I have done more than touch the great Alexi. He doesn't do a thing. I leave her standing to gawp after me and wiggle my arse with every ounce of attitude I have, my clipboard underarm with tonight's details and things I need to keep an eye on and just strut myself to the bar and order myself a straight vodka on ice. What I said is true, but it doesn't make it bite me any less. I hate that he can hurt me with another woman, and I hate that I exposed it to him in a bid to stamp that cow down, but she's standing like a scorned child, so I guess it was worth it. Knocking her grandeur down a little is a great thing. Gives me a little mood boost for ten minutes anyway. I have another enemy tonight and a whole new war. If that bitch thinks she's moving in on my path and my place in Alexi's world she's about to meet a redhead with a serious possessive side. He's a fucking bastard, but like it or not, there's a part of me that knows he's my fucking bastard and this is my fucking turf! I won't be getting pushed aside for a knock-off Versace and a hoe with a fake arse demeanour.